


Lost Causes

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, One-Shot, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 19:11:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's winter, and Castiel has been through enough by now that he truly knows some things on Earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Causes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Great Blind Sassy Exchange II, for last-thing-you-want on tumblr's prompt of "wings"-but they dropped out, so I got assigned another person, and this was left to rot in my computer. I hate the title. I hate titles generally. But I like the fic, so here you guys go! Feedback is very appreciated. <3

Cas knows the real Sam. Not the Sam his brothers and sisters talk about, harsh Enochian words dropping down from Heaven that only he can hear. The Sam they talk about is an abomination, and Cas cringes when he hears the strength of the hate toward his friend, but he cannot block it. 

They whisper the Boy King is going to kill them all; spin stories of his army of demons that will turn everything into destruction and despair. Cas knows, for the first time, he cannot trust his family to guide him on this. He trusts that he knows the real Sam, and that is easy to do when his friend keeps on saving his life. 

Harpies are generally agreeable creatures, despite what mythology may tell. The Greek bird-women are almost extinct in this day and age, and the remaining few have mostly learned to survive off small animals...as long as they don't get too bored. Even if they are sometimes just as hostile as they were centuries ago, it would be a lost cause trying to stop them-they are clever creatures that disguise themselves as human women and pass unnoticed through the world. 

However, the Winchesters have apparently decided that this particular lost cause is the one for them, as Cas is now peering through the third of Bobby's dusty books on harpies. Well, he's trying, but the road beneath the Impala is bumpy and icy, making it hard to read. It's just his luck he's the only one of them who's fluent in Greek. 

"Find anything on how to gank these things, Cas?" Dean asks over the radio. Cas squints at handwritten pages and crude drawings. "I believe decapitation will suffice. They are very vulnerable near their throats," he responds. Sam turns to Cas from the passenger seat. "How strong are these things? I mean, those people were really ripped apart," Sam asks, wincing at the thought of the bloody crime scene a few miles back. 

"They can fly extremely fast, and their teeth are sharp and deadly. But a blade should be able to defeat them," Cas answers. "Well great, 'cause we've got plenty of blades," Dean says, showing a toothy grin to Sam. 

Snow starts to swirl around the Impala as they drive to where they think the harpy's nest will be, but the Impala is warm with the heat on full blast. Music in their ears and a hunt for the day will never get old.

All the hikers' bodies were found on the edge of the forest, so the three of them park the Impala where she can't be seen and find a place sheltered by trees to wait for the harpy. They planned this so they arrive a few minutes before the sun sets; harpies are only awake at night. They are very good at hunting in the cover of night, so their prey almost never sees them coming, whether it's a squirrel or a hiker or two.

After a while of Sam and Dean arguing over the music, Cas spots a young woman walk over to a rotting stump of a tree and sit down. It's cold outside, and snow is beginning to pile on the bare ground. The girl looks normal; dressed in jeans, scuffed sneakers, and a coat, she's drinking a beer and surveying the blank white forest. But Cas feels instinctively that she is out of place in this ordinary town.

As the last bit of sunlight disappears to bring darkness to the trees, his concerns are confirmed-her eyes flash bright silver in the night. "The harpy. There." Cas points, and Dean and Sam stop debating to look. Sam's eyes widen when he sees the girl's pale eyes. Dean pulls out a sharp silver knife, and Sam clutches Ruby's knife in his hand. Cas has his angelic blade with him, tucked familiarly against his wrist. 

Dean and Sam end up walking over to her, knives hidden but easy to reach-as a distraction, Dean explains-while Cas sneaks up behind her, blade ready. As soon as Dean and Sam make themselves seen, her eyes flick back to a normal brown color. She looks confused as Dean and Sam tell her about this really great concert they're about to go to.

Unfortunately, Cas puts his foot down where the ice is very thin, and it cracks loudly. She frowns and turns around. Her eyes flick to cold silver when she notices Cas, blade poised to kill. He lunges, but he's too late, black wings are unfolding from within her, and she's meeting him halfway, pointed teeth bared. 

She topples Cas to the ground, sending powdery snow into the air. He holds her back from ripping his throat out with his arms, but just barely. Her wings are massive and dark, and they shield her from the snow as she tries to bite Cas. Her silver-plated eyes glisten in the moonlight as snow beats against them even harder. 

"Cas!" Dean yells, but Sam beats him to the black-winged thing and plunges Ruby's knife into her back. The harpy convulses, snarling, and loosens her grip on Cas so he is able to stand. He looks for his blade, but somewhere in the struggle it was buried in the snow. 

The harpy lets out a birdlike shriek as Sam pulls his knife out. She's hurt now, bleeding silvery ichor from her back-but still strong, and when she flings an arm at Sam in a whirlwind of black feathers, he hits the icy ground with a sickening thud.

"That's enough, you bitch," Dean yells. Her blackened wings are stained red and gray with Sam's blood and her own ichor. Dean lunges for the harpy, and Cas grabs her throat, holding her in place. She chokes and struggles, beating at him with her wings. The snow is whirling around them, and the way it collects in the air, it seems as if it almost forms the shape of wings behind Cas' back. Cas lets go of her throat as Dean grabs her and cuts her head off.

The harpy's body falls to the ground, silver staining the snow, and Dean helps Sam up. He's got some nasty cuts and scratches from the harpy's sharp claws, but he'll live. Sam could swear, as he stands on shaky legs and looks to Cas, that he can see wings framed out by the snow. 

Sam isn't happy, to say the least, when they finally get back to the motel. Sure, he escaped a concussion, but he's bruised all over, and he's got harpy blood in his freaking shoes. He's also tired to the bone; they had to burn the harpy, and the snow made it so hard it took a lot of gasoline and cursing to set the body ablaze. 

Now it's time for the question all hunters must answer at some time in their lives: get cleaned up in the shower, and try not to pass out from exhaustion, or get much-needed sleep, but covered in supernatural bodily fluids? 

Sam's leaning toward getting into the dirty motel shower this time around. Humans aren't meant to be exposed to harpy blood. It kind of burns. Dean's lucky, he didn't get any blood on him, so he's fast asleep on the bed next to Sam's. 

Cas notices Sam trying to get some ichor out of his ears, making small annoyed sounds, and walks over. "Oh," he says. "The ichor, it hurts. Let me.." he presses two fingers to Sam's head, and suddenly the burning stops, and he's no longer covered in grayish fluid. Sam looks at Cas and grins. "Thanks, Cas," he says, and Cas thinks, oh, his family is completely wrong. 

Sam blinks hard. His eyes feel like they're going to roll out of his head. "You need to sleep," Cas declares. "Yeah. Yeah, thanks. Rough day." Sam smiles. He settles down onto the bed. "G'night, Cas." He closes his eyes. "Good night," Cas responds. 

There are only a few hours until the sun rises, but the Winchesters need to sleep. Cas could fly somewhere until they need him again-he particularly likes tropical islands in these times-or he could stay here, be there in the morning. He could read some more of Bobby's books-his Greek could, admittedly, use some polishing-and Sam would wake up in the morning.

Sam's asleep close to Cas, and he dreams about falling snow in the shape of feathers.


End file.
